


Tinsel and Lights

by Sarah_hadeschild



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: ALL THE FLUFF, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Music, Christmas Tree Decorating, Cookies, Fluff, Ice Skating, M/M, Mistletoe, Shane is a scrooge, Slow Dancing, all the cliches, beginning of relationship, discovering feelings, the boys spend Christmas together, the whole thing, tinsel and lights
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-27
Updated: 2019-01-01
Packaged: 2019-08-30 03:33:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 13,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16756870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sarah_hadeschild/pseuds/Sarah_hadeschild
Summary: Ryan beamed. “I thought the season was…how did you put it? Oh right, ‘nothing more than a drop in temperature and a surge in capitalist nonsense?’”“Hey, can’t a guy have a change of heart? Or at least wish for some dignity in the midst of a charming winter scene?”AKA Shane and Ryan spend the holidays together, and Ryan has one week to convince Shane that Christmas is, in his words, "the best holiday ever."





	1. Insufficient Pine-age

“Oh my god dude, do you have any concept of how to decorate a tree?” This was the third criticism that Ryan had levelled at Shane’s decorating skills— not that he was counting.

“It’s not rocket science, Ryan. You take the bulbs, hook ‘em, and decorate the dying branch you brought in from the parking lot.” Shane had held out hope that Ryan would leave him to his anti-Christmas humbuggery, but as usual, Ryan was swept up in something, and when Ryan was swept up he transformed into a tornado, pulling everything around him into his current obsession. This time of the year he turned into a walking Hallmark Christmas special, right down to the cheesy patterned sweater. Christmas was only a week away, but if his current state of carol-singing ecstasy was any indication, then Ryan’s insanely detailed tree decorating scheme was only the tip of the iceberg. 

“For the last time, I did not get this tree from the parking lot, you ass. I bought it from the lot.”

“Which lot? Was it operated by a homeless sewer rat? This tree is terrible, Ryan. It clearly has insufficient pine-age. You got cheated if you paid anything more than a nickel.”

“No, I did not get cheated. It’s fine. It just…needs a little love.”

“Jesus Christ, tell me you did not just quote the Charlie Brown Christmas special to my face, in conversation.”

“Shut up, Shane.” Ryan said, smiling. He reached up to hang another bulb, only to have it visibly drag down an entire branch, loosing a bundle of pine needles onto the already cluttered floor.

Shane sighed. “We’re going to get a new tree. If you’re going to insist on doing a ghoul-boys Christmas, we are going to do this right.”

…………..

The car ride was filled with the spirited renditions of Christmas harmonies and medleys sung by Michael Bublé and whoever else was responsible for the same old, boring playlists that characterized the holiday season. Now, to be clear, Shane wasn’t unhappy to spend Christmas with Ryan; in fact that was a major improvement to his previous plan to spend the day indoors, watching a movie marathon, and attempting to cook something that resembled a wholesome Christmas dinner. At least, that was the plan until the pipe burst in his apartment, soaking his carpet and effectively locking him out of his own home until the repairmen could return after the holiday season. Just his luck.

No, his resentment for the season came not from his annoying— if not endearing— new roommate, but from Shane’s own general unpleasantness which he associated with the holiday. As a student, Shane didn’t have the money to go home for Christmas, and when he finally was able to return, it appeared his family was quite content to function apart from him. During his brief visit he was faced with a family that felt simultaneously his own, and a relic of his past. He just couldn’t see himself in the picture anymore. He had felt that Christmas like the Little Match Girl, watching the families through frosted glass windows, able to witness their joy but only from the outside.

It was fine, he knew. Time changes everyone. But still, the holidays felt a little colder without the company of loved ones.

“— And of course since you’ll be spending the holiday at Casa Bergara, you’ll have to come ice skating with me on Christmas Eve, and then—”

“Hold the phone little guy, I did not agree to that!”

“You agreed to spend Christmas with me, and to do all of my traditions! No take-backs! Who is giving you room and board, for free I might add, in your time of crisis? You’re so doing the holidays with me.”

“I thought your traditions would be normal! Like, baking cookies or something, not freezing our asses off in a rink; we live in LA for a reason, Ry.”

“Nope! No take backs. This is going to be the best Christmas ever.”

Shane sighed. Ryan was always so high spirited, regardless of the situation. Fine. If a cheesy, tv special was the kind of Christmas he wanted, then hell, Ryan was going to get it. Two can play this game.

 

The Christmas tree lot was mercifully empty, save a few stragglers. Though, it was getting close to the big day. Shane surveyed the lot, watching as couples and small families strode along in between the aisles, assessing each tree with scrutinizing eyes. Fairy lights hung low over each aisle, and Shane had to duck to avoid hitting them, eliciting a small giggle from Ryan, who crept alongside with his hands shoved into his pockets for warmth.

“Something funny?”

Ryan shook his head, laughing. “Nope, just the usual Sasquatch hijinks.” 

“Gee, do you think you could put aside the ol’ Sasquatch pseudonym for a minute. I mean, in the spirit of the season.”

Ryan beamed. “I thought the season was…how did you put it? Oh right, ‘nothing more than a drop in temperature and a surge in capitalist nonsense?’” 

“Hey, can’t a guy have a change of heart? Or at least wish for some dignity in the midst of a charming winter scene?”

Ryan sighed dramatically. “Fine. What would you prefer to be called, my big guy? Something more festive than Sasquatch? But still appropriate given your gargantuan form?”

“You know, I’m perfectly fine with big guy.” He glanced down at his feet before adding, quietly, “particularly how you just put ‘my’ in front of it.”

Ryan was silent a moment, as Shane considered that German phrase about one’s heart beating in one’s throat. He vaguely wondered whether there was a German term for when the heart leaps out of the chest entirely.

“I think I can do that.” Ryan grinned up at Shane. His eyes were so wide with surprise it made Shane smirk at the sight. Ryan’s puffy winter jacket and matching beanie contrasted with his gleeful expression in such a way that his clothes appeared to swaddle his joy.

They continued walking in amicable silence until Shane glanced past Ryan and noticed a tree tucked against the wire fence. Its bushy girth was contained by some festive red wiring, and when Shane gave it a little tug to examine it, they noticed that it stood just between the height of the two of them. 

“What do you say, Ry, is this the one?”

Ryan met his eyes and replied, “Oh yeah. This is the one. It’s perfect.”

Shane smiled back, a lyric from an old Christmas song dancing through his mind: ’Something almost true was in the air….’


	2. Tiny Tim?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When at last the tree was bedazzled within an inch of its life, the boys stood back to admire their handiwork. “What do ya think, little guy? Up to the Bergara holiday standard?”
> 
> “Just about. We still haven’t put the star on yet!”
> 
> “Oh!” Shane lunged for the last box tucked away on the sofa. “Want me to do it? Or should I put you on my shoulders like Tiny Tim?”
> 
> “You shut your mouth, Sir.”

There was glitter everywhere. Ryan’s rather impressive, if not excessive, collection of Christmas ornaments had truly taken their toll on their shared living space. Glitter now dusted every service, and Shane winced at the sight of speckled gold reflecting in his cup of tea. The apartment was beginning to resemble Santa’s workshop, minus the elven maintenance staff.

Sitting cross-legged on the floor, Ryan was busy untangling some Christmas lights while Shane scrolled through Tumblr on his phone from the couch— the reward he triumphantly claimed for having purchased the tree they now prepared to adorn. 

“Do you think we have enough ornaments?” Ryan asked, glancing up from his project.

“Ryan, look around you. It looks like you’ve robbed a Macy’s display. This tree is going to sparkle so much we’ll probably blind ourselves. I think you might be taking the phrase ‘a white Christmas’ a bit too literally.”

Ryan laughed. “Jesus that’s pretty dark, dude. Come ‘ere, why don’t you help me with this monstrosity. I’m pretty sure I’m only tangling these lights even more.”

Shane sighed before joining Ryan on the floor beside the tree. “Hmm. Christmas light-detangling seems like a modern day punishment for Sisyphus, don’t ya think?”

Ryan leaned back a little, framing his mouth with his hands before letting out a heartfelt “Nerrrdddd!”

“Read a book, man. That’s all I’m saying.” 

The two sat on the floor, tugging away at the cluster of lights before them. Shane wondered idly if they would eventually reach the centre of the heap in a moment not unlike something from Lady and the Tramp. 

“Oh, you have some glitter on your face there.”

“I think it’s a permanent aspect of my aesthetic now, Ry. I doubt I’ll ever be able to get all of—-”

Ryan reached tentatively across, gently brushing the skin just below Shane’s eye. Shane’s breath hitched in his throat as he intently watched Ryan remove the glitter. “There. Perfect.”

Shane grinned. “I know you’re referencing some abominable Hallmark Christmas special, Ryan. I can feel it in my cold, dead heart.” 

Ryan looked down, attempting to appear fascinated with the lights.

“You know what would make this way more enjoyable?”

Ryans eyes lit up. “Eggnog?”

“Strong eggnog.”

“Now we’re talking!”

 

Though Shane would hesitate to admit it, Ryan’s enthusiasm was beginning to rub off on him. It had been years since Shane had had the opportunity to decorate a tree— although in this case, bedazzle might be the appropriate verb—- and he’d forgotten just how enjoyable the whole thing was. They were warm, Bing Crosby was playing yet again over the speakers, mixed with the occasional traditional German hymnal to pacify Shane and his quirky habits. The white lights gave the tree a soft glow that reflected in the windows and made them resemble ice. The ornaments continued to sprinkle their glitter across every surface they came into contact with, but Shane became less and less annoyed with the glitter, and was increasingly impressed by the strength of their eggnog. ’Tis the season to be jolly, indeed.

Ryan was also delighted to have his tall companion around to help cover more ground. He had always hated using the stepladder to decorate on his own, and being able to share the experience was a nice change. It wasn’t the bustling family scene of his childhood. It was quieter, more relaxed, and safe. He looked up at Shane, placing a silver bulb on a high branch, and smiled at the thought that they continued to complement one another even in something as frivolous as tree decorating. 

When the third German hymnal came on Shane’s playlist, Ryan couldn’t hold back his curiosity anymore. “Ok, so what’s the deal with all this German stuff? I thought you said you didn’t remember any of it from your class?”

“I don’t. I just like listening to it.”

“But why? It sounds so weird, and we can’t understand any of it.”

“I dunno. I guess I just find it comforting. To not understand what they’re saying, I mean. I find I overthink a lot, and without having that pressure to pay attention and to understand, I can focus on other stuff, like hanging this hideous, golden Santa on your Christmas tree.”

“Shut up, Shane!” Ryan laughed, bumping Shane with his hip. “And it’s our tacky Christmas tree.”

“That’s true.” 

When at last the tree was bedazzled within an inch of its life, the boys stood back to admire their handiwork. “What do ya think, little guy? Up to the Bergara holiday standard?”

“Just about. We still haven’t put the star on yet!”

“Oh!” Shane lunged for the last box tucked away on the sofa. “Want me to do it? Or should I put you on my shoulders like Tiny Tim?”

“You shut your mouth, Sir.”

Shane quickly grabbed the star in one hand and began reaching for the topmost branch. 

Ryan stood back silently, watching as Shane completed their project. He gasped a little as the Christmas lights caught in Shane’s glasses, illuminating his face like candlelight. He just looked so incredibly soft. His features were relaxed, a slight smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, and his hair fell haphazardly over one eye as he reached still higher. Ryan felt himself staring and awkwardly forced himself to look away, hoping Shane hadn’t noticed.

“What do you see, little guy?” No such luck.

“Nothing. You just looked kinda cute doing that.”

Shane’s sudden grin could only be described as mischievous. “Did I now?”

“Yup. Like the yeti at the end of Rudolph. You fixed that star like a pro.”

And just like that, the moment had passed.

…………………

Shane liked to think that he had pretty good self awareness when it came to alcohol. For example, he knew that if he were smart, he would cut himself off after his fourth cup of eggnog. But then again, he also knew that he was an idiot, and thus raised his sixth cup to his lips before asking Ryan, “So, uh, what made you such a big Christmas guy? Were you raised by elves or something?”

Ryan, who lay sprawled on the sofa much like a cat with one leg draped over the side, looked down from his eggnog to Shane, who lay on the floor with a pillow tucked behind his head, and his Santa mug of eggnog sitting balanced on his chest. “Hmm…yeah, I guess it was because it was such a big deal in my house as a kid. It really brought my family together. Plus, my parents had kind of a rough marriage, but they kept the arguments to themselves over the holidays, mostly. It felt more peaceful then.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

“Naw, it’s fine. Things were usually fine. I just became obsessed with the holidays, and those stupid Hallmark movies, you know? Wish fulfillment I guess. I just always wanted to do my own Christmas. Pull out all the stops, eat all the food, get super drunk on eggnog, and spend time with people I care about. What about you? Why are you such a scrooge, Mr. Madej? Who did you wrong?”

Shane rubbed at his face absentmindedly, wondering whether he was blushing from all the booze, or from Ryan looking down at him like that. Ryan’s eyes were a little glazed, and the eggnog had clearly left a mark on his rosy cheeks. He looked beautiful. One way or the other, Shane felt sure his face was betraying him.

“I don’t know. Nothing particularly bad has really happened to me on Christmas, I just feel a bit disconnected from it all. Like, if I go home, I’ll see everyone else happy and enjoying themselves, and wonder why I don’t feel the same. But if I stay home, I’ll feel lonely for not having gone out. Dumb, isn’t it?”

“Not dumb, just a bit…human. I get it. I feel that way when I watch those movies you hate so much. It’s like, I know they’re not real, and it kind of bums me out that I’ll never have a Christmas like that.”

Shane looked up then. He wanted desperately to reach out to him. To push his hair back, to rub his arm, to do anything to close the space between them. But no matter how hard he wished to be soft, Shane couldn’t bring himself to do it. He was the Little Match Girl still, within and without.

“Well, in light of our depressing revelations, I have a proposal to make.”

Ryan sat up. “What is it?”

“What if we make a pact, to make this Christmas extraordinary for all the ones that fell short? We can do whatever we want, whenever we want, without a schedule, and do all the things we wish we could do but never have?”

Ryan beamed down at him. “Yes! Dude, that sounds amazing! Let’s do it. BUT we have to do this together, ok?”

“Of course!” As if that wasn’t the delightful point of Shane’s plan…. “But for the sake of my sanity, please know that I will not stop teasing your dedication every step of the way.”

“I would expect nothing less from you.”

……………

Shane awoke to the sound of Ryan putting their empty mugs in the sink. He rubbed his eyes, silently cursing himself for falling asleep on the hardwood floor. He could already feel tomorrow’s regret for that decision sinking in.

He heard Ryan’s feet scuffing the floor as he approached. “You awake, big guy?”

“Tragically, yes.”

Ryan sat down beside him, cross legged and fidgety. Shane raised himself up on one arm, concerned for the wide eyes staring back at him. The clock on the mantle was flashing 4:00 AM. He mustn’t have gotten any sleep yet.

“Everything ok, Ry?”

“I just…have a question. About the plan.”

“Ok, shoot.”

He sighed. “So, I guess I’m just wondering…you know, for the whole Hallmark Christmas thing…”

“Yes?”

“Well, how into that are you? Because I don’t want to overstep any…I mean, I don’t want to mess this up, and—”

Shane reached out with his free hand, taking Ryan’s in his own. “Ry, I don’t think there are any lines to cross—there aren’t any barriers where you and I are concerned. We’re just us, and whatever that looks like, I’m ok with it.”

Ryan finally met his eyes. “Really?”

“Yeah. My happiness depends entirely on yours. We’re way past crossing lines, here. Caesar has crossed the Rubicon, baby!”

Ryan buried his face in his hands. “Oh my god, you fucking nerd.”

“Hey, just because a man entertains a little intellectual curiosity doesn—”

Shane’s words fell silent as Ryan’s lips crashed into his. It was far from the plastic happiness of cable television. Shane’s arm ached as it supported his weight, Ryan’s forehead pushed Shane’s glasses flush against his cheeks, and their wide smiles made the act of kissing a tad challenging. But the world-altering realization that Ryan Bergara was kissing him, holding his face in his hands, and talking about their Christmas together was almost too much for Shane to handle. 

 

Shane sat up on the floor, shifting closer to Ryan. He placed his hands on Ryan’s hips, rubbing circles through his flannel pyjama bottoms. Ryan sighed at the contact, and began drawing his hands up and down Shane’s neck as he leaned closer and always closer. 

Before long, they pulled away for air, each taking in the sight of the other illuminated by Christmas tree glow. The 4 AM silence washed over them like a wave, filling them with the otherworldly sensation of being both awake and blissfully happy while the world dreamed on.

Ryan was the first to break the silence. “Goodnight, Shane.” He pressed their foreheads together a moment before quickly rising to his feet, and scurrying towards his bedroom door.

“Goodnight, Ryan.” 

Shane felt like an overexposed film strip; nothing but light.

Or, he thought, perhaps a Christmas tree would make for a better metaphor.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Thanks for reading, and I hope you've enjoyed the new chapter of holiday fluff. Please feel free to leave a comment below-- I love hearing people's thoughts on my work. As the semester draws to a close, I hope to be updating this work frequently into the holiday season, so stay tuned! I have much, much more fluff in store for the ghoul boys.


	3. Stille Nacht

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shane sighed. “You’re not wrong. I’ve been thinking about it... You know, crunching the numbers, reviewing the statistics.”
> 
> “Come to a conclusion yet?”
> 
> “Yeah. I think we make for a pretty strong hypothesis, you and I.”  
>  
> 
> AKA, Ryan gives Shane a Christmas surprise that he won't soon forget.

“It’s shopping day!” Ryan cheerfully exclaimed as he approached the doorway, triumphantly grinning down at Shane. Shane’s legs were suspended awkwardly over the side of the sofa. His glasses sat crookedly on his face, which was twisted in an early morning scowl.

“Hmmm…”

“You up, big guy? Woah, you look like crap. How much eggnog did you have?”

“Too much. Also my back is killing me.”

Ryan perched himself on the armrest. “I feel like that’s a dig at my sofa.”

“It is. You’re right on the money.” Shane fixed his glasses and began running his hand through his hair. His voice was deep and ragged in the morning, Ryan noticed. He found it endearing.

“Well, if you’re lucky maybe I’ll let you sleep at the end of my bed tonight, like a puppy.”

Nudging Ryan gently with his foot, Shane met his eyes. “Any other options, little guy?” 

Ryan stared, blankly. “Uhh. Well. Back to why I called you here, I—”

“Ryan, you didn’t call me anywhere. You came and woke me up.”

“Right. So I was thinking that maybe we could do some Christmas shopping today? I still have to get something for my mom and I thought we could make an afternoon of it, and maybe do the rest later?”

Shane sat up with an incredulous grin. “What’s ‘the rest’? Should I be worried?”

“Only mildly. What do you think?”

Shane smiled. “Sounds like a date.”

...................

The mall was the very definition of insanity. But, then again, Shane had always made it a point not to venture down the capitalist rabbit hole anytime after the 20th of December. It was only the 21st, but still. The difference of one day felt oppressive amongst the crowds of shoppers bundled in their scarves. 

As Shane was jostled by yet another customer, he turned towards Ryan. “We need a new plague.”

Ryan laughed, watching as his taller friend made an effort to part the crowd with a frown and sheer force of will alone. He grabbed onto Shane’s arm in sympathy. “It’s all part of the season, big guy. You gotta put up with the crowds now to enjoy the Christmas presents later. Speaking of, do you need to pick up anything in the mall?”

“Nah, I’m all set for Christmas. Unlike you, I plan ahead. I also tend to give gifts which aren’t so deeply entrenched in capitalist fervour.”

“Alright, alright. Just know that if your Christmas gift to me is in the form of an abstract concept, I will be very disappointed.”

“Noted. And believe me, my Christmas gift to you is going to blow your Lakers socks off.”

“You think so?”

“I know so. I have a PhD in gift giving, baby!” 

Before Ryan could even manage to utter the word ‘nerd,’ the two were suddenly knocked aside by a well-dressed businessman as he darted passed in his tailored suit and wireless headset. His thermos collided with Shane’s free arm, spilling hot coffee on his favourite cardigan. Shane watched helplessly as the man continued on his way, speaking obliviously into his headset. He shouted after him, “Having bluetooth does not make you important!”

A few people had begun eying Shane as he shouted in vain to his coffee-spilling nemesis. “Ok big guy, calm down. Let’s go to H & M and get the hell out of here.”

“That guy is the product of capitalism.”

“I know.”

“I bet that was a 7$ Starbucks coffee.”

“I know Shane.”

......................

Ryan’s defining personality trait was most likely his ability to devote himself entirely to an idea. Whether that idea was a conspiracy theory, a research project for Unsolved, or their Hallmark Christmas plan, Ryan would suddenly develop tunnel vision as he worked to execute his vision to the best of his ability. This was the conclusion Shane had come to as he watched Ryan’s brow furrow with concentration before a wall of variously patterned women’s scarves. Shane stood awkwardly to the side, incredibly ignorant as to the quality of silk scarves and their desirability as Christmas gifts. He chewed his lip absentmindedly as he pondered the events of the previous night. Ryan hadn't mentioned their eggnog-fuelled moment, although he didn't seem particularly bothered by it, either. Still, a familiar pang of anxiety had Shane on edge. The crowds did little to assuage his nerves, and his fear of the unpredictable had his stomach in knots. Yesterday the world had operated in conditions to which Shane had grown accustomed. Today, when faced with the consequences of his actions, the world looked different. Just when Shane was getting used to the rules, the game had changed. He was glad it had, but as far as Shane was concerned, change and anxiety were a packaged deal.

He sighed with relief when he saw Ryan approaching, bag in hand and a triumphant smile on his face. “Come on big guy. We’ve gotta get going if we’re going to get there in time.”

“Ah, the mysterious secondary location…and you know what they say about—”

“Do not lapse into your John Mulaney impression right now, we have to focus. Also, put this on.”

Ryan handed Shane a dark grey cardigan with a high collar. “You bought this for me?”

“Of course I did. You loved that other cardigan, but where we’re going, you’ll want to look presentable, sans-coffee stain.”

“Ryan, I love it.” Shane put it on hastily, appreciating the soft fabric. “And the pockets are so deep!”

“Hey, I understand your cardigan standards. I’ve been well versed on the subject. Now, come on, we have to get going.”

Shane grinned. “To the secondary location?” 

“Shut up.”

Shane smiled at his most recent realization. Ryan had grabbed his hand as they walked, as if he hadn’t even thought about it. As if it was instinctual.

………….

“So when are you going to tell me where we’re going?”

“I’m not. Take a right here.” Ryan sat staring in concentration at the GPS on his phone.

“Don’t you think the driver of the vehicle ought to know the location to which he is driving?”

“Not today. Besides, we’re almost there. Just take a right here and it’s on the left.”

“Oh. Oh my god. You didn't.” Shane was stunned as he turned in next to a sign that read “German Community Centre” in red neon lights. “You know I don’t remember any actual German, right?”

“Yeah, of course I remember!”

“So… did you bring me here to learn German? Because I’m flattered, but… also, historically bad at this.”

“Just get out of the car.”

Shane did as he was told, and stood leaned against the hood of the car, where Ryan came to join him.

“They’re having Christmas carols here this afternoon, and since you like playing German Christmas music so much, I thought maybe… you’d like to hear some in person?”

Shane beamed. Ryan was looking up at him with such large, enthusiastic eyes. He knew his infatuation with German music was weird. Others had regarded it as childish or odd. Yet Ryan, who had only ever looked at Shane with a sort of kind, if not incredulous, curiosity, had treated his habit as an endearing quality. Shane felt suddenly desperate to repay Ryan’s acceptance with acceptance in turn. Unsure of how to word such extreme solidarity, he could only smile back.

“So, what are you thinking, big guy? Is this something you could be into?”

“I’m just thinking that I’m really glad that pipe broke in my apartment.” Reaching down, Shane took Ryan’s hand in his own and began rubbing circles onto the back of his palm. When he had gotten up this morning, Shane had felt a million thoughts race through his mind about their kiss, and whether or not the world would look the same in the morning. He was deeply relieved to realize that the view had indeed changed, but only for the better. “Would it be alright for me to kiss you?”

Ryan smiled. “I thought you’d never ask.”

The temperature outside had started to drop. Shane could see Ryan’s breath take shape in the air before him, and caught the fog in his mouth as he leaned down to meet his lips. His hands held Ryan’s jaw as he stood there in the cold, trying to convey his gratitude and his joy in the same moment with only the slow, delicate movement of his lips. 

Ryan’s hands rested on Shane’s hips as he kissed him back, breathing in the pine scent that seemed to follow Shane everywhere he went. Ryan smiled slightly at the thought, which struck him as a cheesy Hallmark line if he had ever heard one.

Shane pulled back, gently. He looked down to meet Ryan’s eyes as they parted. “We have to go in now or else our first make-out session will occur in front of a German community centre, and that’s just a bit too weird.”

Ryan laughed. “Yeah, even for us.”

Although the building was a humble, anonymously basic brick structure from the exterior, inside the space was filled with boughs, garlands, and the sounds of general merriment. The people shuffled in the entrance, leaving donations at the doorway before entering into a large space which was filled with people of all ages, watching the band and choir singers perform onstage.

Shane eagerly took Ryan’s hand as he lead them down towards the front of the crowd. They came to a stop and looked on as couples twirled around them to the music. The younger, more energetic couples twirled and spun about them, while the older crowd danced slowly and methodically in tight, concentric circles. Shane felt particularly grateful for his cardigan as he admired the well-dressed dancers about them.

He turned to Ryan, “May I have this dance?”

“Of course. Do you even know what song this is?”

“I have absolutely no idea.”

Taking Ryan by the hand, Shane lead them tentatively onto the dance floor. He took Ryan’s hand in his own, and placed the other around his waist, leading them in a simple waltz. Shane smiled as the music transitioned into a slow, steady rendition of Stille Nacht.

“You know,” Shane began, “When we arrived here I really thought you had gotten me language lessons or something.”

Ryan wrinkled his nose. “Nope. Never. You already out-reference me when it comes to history. You being bilingual would be insufferable. We need to be at least somewhat equal in our incompetence.”

Shane laughed. “So an equilibrium of ignorance is what we need?”

“Yeah, pretty much. Our relationship is a delicate ecosystem of mutual stupidity.”

“How romantic. You really know how to sweep a guy off his feet, Bergara.” Raising his arm, he gestured for Ryan to spin, eliciting a wide grin from his shorter companion. “I’ll play along. I can be dumb.”

“Ha. Or at least don’t overthink. That’s why I brought you here, partly. Because I assumed you’d be going crazy in that big ol’ head of yours trying to rationalize last night.”

Shane sighed. “You’re not wrong. I’ve been thinking about it.”

“Yeah?”

“Yup. You know, crunching the numbers, reviewing the statistics.”

“Come to a conclusion yet?”

“Yeah. I think we make for a pretty strong hypothesis, you and I.”

Ryan beamed up at him. “Do we now?”

“Most definitely. I mean, you brought me to a German Christmas recital, Ry. That’s commitment.”

Ryan laughed. “I guess so. I just wanted to see your face when you realized.”

“Realized what?”

“How fucking amazing Christmas can be.”

“Wow, Ryan. That was some next-level cheesiness right there.”

“Yeah, you’re right. I’ll shut up now.” 

Shane sighed as Ryan leaned closer, listening to the gentle choir as his long acquired nervousness began to quiet within him. Alles schläft; einsam wacht… 

They danced until the very last song, when they parted in all reluctance. They vowed to return again the following year before they’d even left the dance hall. Shane stopped on the way out to drop a sizeable gift in the donation box. 

As they retreated to Shane’s car, hands entwined, Shane whispered, “I think I’m starting to understand now, Ry.”

“What, German?”

He smiled. “No, Christmas.”

………………..

By the time they returned home there was scarcely enough time to do anything more than prepare for bed, and settle in with some tea. Ryan came to sit beside Shane on the recliner, wrapping a blanket around them both as they sipped their tea in companionable silence. He leaned his head against Shane’s shoulder, fighting to keep his eyes open as they basked in the glow of their Christmas tree. 

Ryan nudged Shane’s leg with his toe as he whispered, “Sing me a song? One of your German ones?” He had abandoned his tea in favour of burrowing into Shane’s side. Tiredness had a way of making him soft.

“You know my pronunciation is probably terrible, right?”

“Mhm.”

“And you know I don’t know what, like, anything means, right?”

“Sing anyway?”

Shane sighed. “Fine.”

As Shane began to sing, he wrapped his arm around Ryan’s waist, remembering their waltz as he quietly recited Stille Nacht, rubbing circles on Ryan’s hip as he did so. The words flowed gently and slowly from his lips as he annunciated each word. Ryan had always admired the way Shane spoke; how his voice was so even and steady, and his words always felt hand picked and earnest. These qualities became more pronounced when he sang, and Ryan felt as though he was seeing Shane in his entirety— his soul emanating from his lips. 

Shane made many errors in pronunciation, in breathing, and in rhythm; this he knew. But for all the foreignness of the German tongue, every word sounded to Ryan like “Shane.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 3 is finally up! As per usual, the boys are killing it with the Christmas cuteness. In my mind, Shane is a precious, sarcastic, woke baby with anxiety, and I am here for it.
> 
> FYI, the two German lines I included are from Stille Nacht/Silent Night: Alles schläft; einsam wacht = All is calm, all is bright.


	4. Gingerbread Mothman?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shane shook his head in disbelief. “This has got to be the most detailed gingerbread project ever undertaken by non-professionals.”
> 
> “Oh yeah. We’re so going to screw this up.”
> 
> “Royally.”

After a morning of watching the most insufferably sweet Christmas specials imaginable, Shane was ready to do absolutely anything else. Perhaps even gouge his eyes out with one of Ryan’s decorative Christmas spoons. The problem was, snuggled under a blanket on Ryan’s recliner while Ryan warmed his cold toes on Shane’s leg was…sort of ideal. And the only way that Ryan had been able to convince Shane that wasting their morning watching the Hallmark channel was actually a good idea. Shane sighed with relief when the credits finally rolled on their most recent film.

“Well Ry, it was a good run. Want to get up and actually do something now?”

Ryan yawned before pouting in protest. “What are you talking about? We’ve watched four Christmas specials already, and we haven’t even left bed yet.”

“First of all, while this recliner is marginally better than your couch, we are not in bed. I would take note of that. Second, the term ‘Christmas special’ is an oxymoron. Third, we’ve seen the exact same story all four times. If I hear someone prattle on about the true meaning of Christmas one more time, I’m going to hang myself with the Christmas tree lights.”

“I thought you liked that last one!”

“Oh my god, just because the prince charming in that abomination of a film was tall does not mean that I automatically relate to him as a character! That’s height-ist, Ryan, and frankly I thought you were above that.”

“Well technically, you’re the one who’s above —”

Shane laughed. “Ok, now we’ve just off topic. My point is, if I have to watch one more disgustingly heartwarming film, I might actually puke.”

Ryan sighed dramatically. “Ok, Scrooge. Point taken. We can do something else.” Ryan took Shane’s hand, entwining Shane’s fingers gently in his own. 

“Thank you. So what’s next on the Bergara tradition list? Deck them halls, spread some joy?”

“Even better.” Ryan gave Shane a peck on the cheek before lurching out of the recliner and sprinting into the kitchen. Shane watched as he triumphantly held up a pair of cookie cutters.

“Ah, gingerbread decorating. A true bastion of the holiday season. Let me guess, we’re going to decorate a gingerbread house with gumdrops and pre-packaged icing?”

“Oh contraire, my gargantuan friend. We are going to build a gingerbread mansion. I’ve basically gotten us the ultimate gingerbread expansion pack.”

“Gingerbread expansion pack? That sounds a bit inten— holy shit, Ry!”

Ryan returned from the store closet carrying in his arms a massive red box adorned with pictures of gingerbread men smiling gleefully before their gingerbread property, and what was likely acres of multicoloured fondant. 

The two dove into the box of gingerbread, pulling out walls, floors, and ceilings of pre-baked cookie, and began inspecting the cookie cutters with which they would populate their property. 

Shane shook his head in disbelief. “This has got to be the most detailed gingerbread project ever undertaken by non-professionals.”

“Oh yeah. We’re so going to screw this up.”

“Royally.”

Having retrieved the cookbook, Ryan began mixing together the ingredients for their gingerbread men, while Shane began sorting through the various pieces of unassembled architecture.

“This palace is going to be massive. I propose we have a jacuzzi out back so our gingerbread men can relax after a long day at the flour factory.”

“Oh yeah. We’re not going to half-ass this. Our gingerbread men are going to be living the goddamn dream.”

“And gingerbread women, Ry. Do try to be more inclusive during the holiday season.”

“You’re right, whatever was I thinking?” He chuckled. “Holiday season…a week ago you were all ‘Christmas is humbug, down with capitalism, Ryan, your traditions suck!’”

“In my defence I never said your traditions sucked— only that your complete and utter dedication to them made you seem a…..a little unhinged.” Shane stopped to toss a gumdrop in his mouth before continuing, “and as you are well aware, my hatred for capitalism is year round.”

“Don’t I know it. Ok, so the batter is ready, we just need to prep these bad boys for the oven! And I have the perfect thing to make our gingerbread men stand out.” Ryan turned back toward the pantry before emerging proudly with a cookie cutter in the shape of a ghost.

“Amazing. Now we just have to somehow decorate a gingerbread Ryan who’s cowering in fear and you’ll finally have some evidence for Unsolved!”

“Actually, I don’t think we could attain any level of accuracy with this. Gingerbread-you would have to have a massive head, and I just don’t have a specialty cookie cutter to achieve that.”

“Touché. Hey, do you think they sell cookie cutters in the shape of Mothman?”

“Uh, I don’t know but I think I saw an angel cookie cutter in there— you could always use that and add blood-coloured frosting after?”

“Genius. I’m going to make gingerbread C. C. Tinsley being attacked by gingerbread-angel Mothman. I love this holiday.”

“Well, I’m just glad you finally have some holiday spirit; as misguided as it may be. Remember that at least a few of these have to look presentable for when my family comes on New Years.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t make all of our gingerbread men anatomically correct.”

“Gee, thanks.”

………..

After several hours of banter and an inadvertent smearing of frosting over every surface in the once-clean kitchen space, Ryan stepped back to admire their handiwork. “Dude, our gingerbread mansion looks fantastic.”

Fantastic, Shane thought, might be an overstatement. Surely the structure was impressive— it occupied nearly half of Ryan’s kitchen table, if you included the bowl of blue frosting that Shane had insisted could represent the gingerbread jacuzzi. The mansion looked as though it had weathered a terrible winter storm, as white frosting was slathered overtop in a desperate attempt to meld the roof to the haphazardly adjoined walls. 

“Well, from a construction standpoint, I give it a week before the ceiling caves in and kills its new inhabitants. But boy, does it look festive!” Shane began circling the table to take in their masterpiece from all sides. “I particularly like the ghosts you stuck on the back of the house. They’ll give gingerbread Ryan a run for his money.”

“Thanks, man. And although I appreciate the artistic choice of placing Mothman on top of the house in a puddle of frosting-blood, I’m starting to think it might weigh down the roof too much.”

“If the roof can’t handle Mothman, it doesn’t deserve to stand, Ryan.”

“True.”

“Alright, picture time!” Shane reached excitedly for his iPhone.

“Wait! One more thing…” Ryan sprinted back to the kitchen and retrieved two gingerbread men he had covered with a Tupperware container. He eagerly presented the two cookies to Shane— one wore a red cardigan not unlike the hideously tacky Christmas sweater Ryan was currently sporting, and the other bore distinct lines in the pastry where Ryan had tacked on extra cookie dough to form a massive gingerbread head.

Shane burst into laughter. “You made gingerbread us!”

“Of course I did! In what world does Mothman exist without the ghoul boys?”

Each took in hand their gingerbread likeness, and Shane snapped a selfie of the four of them. 

“Do another one.” Ryan said.

Just as Shane was about to press the button, Ryan leaned over and kissed him on the cheek, causing Shane to nearly drop gingerbread Shane on the tile floor in surprise.

“Now that is a cute photo. Send it to me so I can post it.”

Shane smiled. “I’ll send you the photo, but you can’t post it.”

“Why not? We look so cute!”

“Exactly. I am not cute, Ryan. I have an image to uphold.”

“Oh as what, the stone cold skeptic who stole Christmas?”

“Hey, half our fanbase thinks I’m a demon, and I’m not ready to correct them.”

Both paused, Shane in the process of sending the photo, and Ryan watching him do so, as he wondered how far he could push this. “Well, I think you won’t post it because you don’t want the world to know that you’re a total softie.”

“Is that what I am?”

“Sometimes. I can see it, you know. When you think no one’s watching.”

Shane stopped typing, glancing between Ryan and his screen as he deliberated. “Yeah, well. You have a better eye than most, Bergara.”

The silence stretched on between them. Ryan looked up at Shane expectantly, while Shane considered how best to repay Ryan’s kindness without revealing just how right he truly was. Ryan was testing the waters, and Shane didn’t want him to find out just how much he was willing to let him get away with. 

Ryan pulled Shane from his thoughts with the sudden exclamation— “It’s snowing!”

“What? No way.”

“It has been getting colder all week, I was hoping this would happen!” Ryan dashed to the window to get a better view. The snow was falling in consistent, Charlie Brown Christmas Special-like peacefulness. There appeared to be a good ten centimetres already covering the ground.

“Wow.” Shane said. “I didn’t see this coming.”

“Well, I did. I mean, we can’t do a proper ghoul boys Christmas extravaganza without a white Christmas. The universe took notice.”

“I’m not even going to acknowledge that logic because we need to go get our coats on before the snow stops.”

“That’s the spirit.”

…………….

So it turns out that Ryan is not the best snow-artist. In his eagerness to decorate their snowman he searched his tiny yard for decorative stones and arms before their snowman was even constructed, prattling on all the while about what to name their creation. Shane didn’t mind, as he rolled the ever-growing mound around the yard. It had been years since he’d even been out in the snow, let alone playing in it.

“What should we call him? Would Father Thomas be a weird choice?”

“For the ghoul boys Christmas? Never! Although I am partial to C. C.”

“Do you think that’s what happened when he went missing? He just froze in the cold somewhere?”

“Yeah, he definitely followed those footprints right into a blizzard… right into Canada.”

Ryan stood in thought a moment. “I’ll be right back.”

He darted back into the house while Shane attached C.C.’s rather massive snow-head, and set to pressing rocks into it for eyes. When Ryan returned, he was bearing Shane’s brown fedora and his own beige trench coat.

“You are not ruining my fedora by putting it on a snowman.”

“First of all, I think we can both agree on some level that this hat is an abomination. Second, it goes great with this old jacket of mine— he’ll look like a real snow detective! Please?” Ryan pouted dramatically as he clutched the fedora to his chest.

Shane sighed in defeat. His willpower seemed to end where Ryan began these days. Day by day Ryan was chipping away at the uncompromising, singular lifestyle that Shane had maintained since he left home. He now had multiple daily reminders that he was no longer on his own in the world. This meant compromise, yes, but he felt he could say yes to Ryan’s whims indefinitely if it meant they could remain in each other’s company. But of course, he wasn’t about to say any of this out loud. 

“Ok, but you owe me a new hat.”

Ryan grinned in triumph, and victoriously capped Snow C. C. Tinsley. “Think it’ll make him come to life like Fros—” Before Ryan could even finish his sentence he was met with a barrage of snowballs from Shane, now cowering on the other side of C. C. “No fair!”

“Fairness has nothing to do with it!” Shane cried, as he continued to circle C. C. He and Ryan quickly fell into a rhythm as they circled one another, attempting to hurl snowballs without compromising their recent creation. Eventually Ryan darted around to face Shane, and attempted to restrain his arms in front of him to prevent any further snowball hurling. The two wrestled awkwardly, until Ryan slipped on some ice and began to feel himself tip backwards.

“Woah!” Shane forcefully dragged him forward, until the two fell in the opposite direction, Ryan landing with a hard thud on top of Shane. They laughed.

“Shane! Are you ok?”

“Yeah, man. I’m fine.”

“You sure?” Ryan looked down at him questioningly. They’d landed on a small snowbank, thankfully, so Shane’s head was at least somewhat cushioned.

“Yeah. Never been better.” Shane smiled as he gazed up at Ryan. The snow continued to fall, though it had begun to lessen as the afternoon progressed. Ryan’s face was red from the cold, and a few stray snowflakes had caught in his eyelashes. Shane could only smile back.

“You, Shane Madej, are one of the softest people I know. You always do things for other people, even if you literally fall on your ass in the process.”

“If by ‘other people’ you actually mean you, then yes.” Shane smiled as he felt his self-preservation begin to fall back in defeat. “I’ll always look out for you, Ryan.”

Grasping the lapel of Shane’s coat, Ryan leaned down to kiss him. Despite the frosty air and the multiple layers of clothing each wore to shut it out, their kiss was particularly heated. Ryan straddled Shane on his knees as he leaned down to meet his lips, and Shane instinctively arched forward at the contact, leaning up into the kiss. He pushed Ryan upright as he did so, until Ryan was seated on Shane’s lap, tugging him ever closer by his collar. Shane grasped Ryan by the waist, eventually reaching one hand to rake through his hair as he deepened the kiss, parting both their lips with his tongue. Ryan sighed as he leaned forward, loosening his grip on Shane’s coat to stroke his jaw. 

They sat locked in each other’s embrace while the snow continued to fall, impervious to the two lives changing on the frosty front lawn. When at last they parted, beginning to feel the chill winter air creep into their coats, Shane nudged Ryan’s nose with his own. “You know, if I’m soft, it’s only for you, you dork.”

“Thanks, nerd.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter, another fluff-extravaganza. I hope you all enjoy their further descent into Christmas cliches, as Christmas, and consequently the end to their Hallmark special, draws near. :)


	5. An Undeniable Fact

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a tree lighting ceremony sheds light on Ryan's anxiety, and Shane is besieged.

“Come on, Shane! We’re going to be late!”

“One second! Just grabbing my camera!” Shane reached for his camera bag and bolted for the door. 

“You’re going to need a hat, I just checked and the snow has started up again.” Ryan stood by the door adorned with a frankly hideous red Christmas hat and coordinating ugly sweater. Shane would have berated him for his absurd choice of garb had it not been for the obnoxiously large smile on his face. He reached out to hand Shane a matching Santa hat.

“How could I forget?”

Ryan’s neighbourhood didn’t have too much neighbourly spirit throughout the year— or at least a normal amount of community spirit for LA— but December 23rd was a key exception to that rule. Crowds gathered around the street corner for a tree lighting ceremony after dinner complete with tables of hot cocoa, Christmas music, and neighbourhood children haphazardly throwing clumps of tinsel at the tree in a half-hearted attempt at decoration. Ryan had stopped by before, offering some cookies and a smile before passing through, but he’d never stayed to celebrate before. It had felt awkward without someone to share it with. This year, however, he was bringing the awkwardness with him in the form of one Shane Madej.

....................

“The tree is so big!” Ryan commented as they approached the crowd. Shane had already retrieved his camera from his bag, and was eagerly snapping photos of the tree as the setting sun offset the scene. Ryan had always appreciated Shane’s enthusiasm for photography; how he loved to document moments to relive later in all their sepia-toned glory.

“It’s a nice display. Ooh! Hot cocoa!” Shane pulled Ryan with him towards the cocoa table, where they were greeted by a kind-faced elderly woman whose name Ryan found to be annoyingly elusive.

“Hello Ryan! Nice to see you again! And who is your lovely friend here?”

“Hi, I’m Shane, Ryan’s Christmas hostage. Pleasure to meet you.”

The woman beamed at Shane from behind the chocolate station. “Oh! My condolences. Have a cup of cocoa, Dear.”

“Thanks!” Shane handed a cup to Ryan as the two stepped aside from the path of incoming children, who were now chasing one another with tangled tinsel. 

They stood aside for almost half an hour, chatting with their neighbour who Ryan soon remembered was Helen, the widow who lived two doors down. They cheerfully spoke with her as they downed their hot cocoa, all awaiting the moment when the tree would be lit and the guests could at last retreat to their warm homes. Ryan looked down at his hands and found them quivering slightly, without the warmth of a steaming mug. 

“You should have brought your mittens, Ry.” Shane put down his mug and took Ryan’s hand in his. Raising it to his mouth he blew a wisp of warm air over his shaking hands, and began rubbing warmth back into them with his own. Ryan’s mouth hung slightly open at the sudden kindness. Shane appeared oblivious to his discomfort, taking Ryan’s hand as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Ryan’s cheeks reddened as he remembered Helen’s presence for their tender moment. However, she didn’t seem to mind, terribly, as she smiled up at the two of them.

Whoosh! Ryan heard the snowball careen through the air before he saw it, and Shane stepped back slightly as it collided with his arm. A young boy of about eleven stood alongside—his eager smile betrayed him as he watched for Shane’s reaction.

“Gotcha, Mister!” He stuck his tongue out as he gauged Shane’s response.

Shane looked down at Ryan. “Do you mind if I…”

“Destroy him.” 

“Thanks!” Shane dashed off in the opposite direction, bending to scoop snow into his hands as he went. “No one challenges the master! Prepare to be besieged!”

Ryan stood in amazement as he watched Shane run off. He chased the boy, who was now joined by a slew of friends, as they each attempted to gather snow faster than one another. Banding together, the children surrounded Shane, who was attempting in vain to use the tree as a wooden shield. Just as Shane was about to deliver what surely would have been a final blow to the pesky instigator of the feud, he managed to slip on some ice and fall backward with a thud. The kids descended upon him like vultures, quickly pelting him with more and more snow.

“Ok! Ok! I submit! I’ve been conquered!” 

“YES!” The children screeched with delight. Parents were now gathered around, watching. Unsure of whether to let the shenanigans continue, or to call their children back from berating a stranger, they opted for an odd mixture of awkward laughter and concerned faces. Ryan watched with delight.

“Your man seems like quite a guy.” Helen said.

“Yeah, he is something alright.” Ryan’s heart swelled with pride as he watched Shane lose what was left of his dignity— a final snowball striking him in the collarbone as he stuck out his tongue in response to his new friend.

“Ok folks! Gather around!” A tall and pristinely dressed man stepped forward, offering Shane a hand before stepping in front of the tree with the clear intention of a speech.

Shane retreated to stand behind Ryan, resting his hands on the shorter man’s shoulders. 

Ryan looked up at him. “You still have snow in your hair.”

“I know.”

“You’re impossible.”

“I know, Ry.”

“To the old faces in the crowd, and to the new, we welcome you to our annual Christmas tree lighting ceremony! Now, I promise I will keep my welcome brief and to the point. I’ve been helpfully informed by Alex—” He gestured to Shane’s nemesis in the red coat— “That speeches are too boring for the Christmas season, so I’ll keep it simple. May you all have a wonderful holiday season, and may the New Year bring you all nothing but joy. And I look forward to seeing you all here again next year, with more joy than ever before. Now, without further ado…”

Dramatically raising the electrical cords before him, the man lit up the tree with a heartfelt, “Merry Christmas!”

The bright white lights of the Christmas tree reflected in the snow, and the children cheered with delight as it glowed. The majority of decorations hung low, generally ceasing at the height of the tallest child. Ryan found it incredibly endearing. 

“You happy, Ry?” Shane smiled down at him, placing a gentle kiss to his temple.

“I am, big guy. How ‘bout you?”

“Never better.”

There they stood, admiring the tree, until few families remained. Some of the children had begun to grow tired, and their parents lured them home with the promise of Christmas specials and cookies before bed. Alex stepped forward to shake Shane’s hand in a truce before leaving with his family— Shane returned the gesture with the vow to annihilate him in future. Ryan hoped his parents weren’t too put off by Shane’s declaration. After all, he was kind of stuck with the neighbours he had.

As Shane went to help one of the organizers disassemble his table, Ryan went to say his goodbyes to Helen.

“Oh nice to see you again Ryan! And to your man too. I do hope you bring him back next year! These events can sometimes be so stuffy, you know?”

Ryan smiled awkwardly. “Yeah, I hope so too. It was nice to see you again. If you ever need anything, feel free to come by!”

They said their Merry Christmases, and Ryan turned her words over in his mind. He would love to bring Shane here next year, he really would. But things seemed so uncertain in his mind. They had agreed to have the greatest, most cliched holiday of all time. Thankfully, Shane had accepted romance as part of that equation. But, what if that was the extent of it? What if Shane was going along with Ryan’s wish for the perfect Christmas, and normalcy would return when the holidays passed, or when Shane would inevitably return to his apartment? These things had been gnawing at Ryan as time went on, but Helen had brought it all to the forefront— Ryan would do anything to have a next Christmas with Shane. And another one after that.

“All set, Ry?” Shane reappeared beside him, his hands shoved deep into his pockets.

“Uh, yeah. Let’s go.”

Shane took notice of his hesitation. “Something on your mind?”

“Hm? No not really.”

Shane sighed. “Hey, I can tell something is bugging you, so maybe we can talk about it now? As opposed to in ten minutes, when we’re both back home and hopefully sipping hot chocolate in peace?”

“Are you doing all this just because of my Christmas obsession?” Ryan blurted it all out, searching Shane’s expression for an answer. 

Shane frowned in confusion. “Define ‘all of this.’”

“You know, the hand holding, romantic stuff? I just want to know because sometimes I think we’re doing well together, and then I start to wonder if maybe you’re just trying to just give me a great Christmas —which, don’t get me wrong, is really sweet— and then I just start asking myself questions and I go down this…”

“Rabbit hole?”

“Yeah.”

Shane stepped closer, taking Ryan’s hands in his own. “Ryan Bergara, no Christmas present could ever go this far. I’m doing all of this because I want to. Because I want to give you a good Christmas, but also because I want to give you an awesome 364 days of the year as well.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. And if you ever feel yourself going down that rabbit hole of anxiety, please, just talk to me.”

“Ok.” Ryan beamed up at Shane, grinning even wider as he noticed the clump of snow that hung on to his hair from Alex’s prior assault. Shane was all or nothing, in snowball fights and in honesty, Ryan knew. His sincerity made Ryan’s heart swell with joy.

The two stood there a few moments, admiring the Christmas tree behind them, and basking in the knowledge that they were once again on the same page. Ryan sometimes felt like a book whose pages turned and tossed in the wind as he waited for Shane to steady them and clearly mark their chapter with his hand. As he watched the tree glow before them he sighed, knowing that their Christmas story would soon be at an end. But, with any luck, this would not be their last Christmas together.

As the two retreated back to Ryan’s apartment for hot cocoa and either another Christmas special, or Frasier, depending on who would win that argument, Shane nudged Ryan’s side and mumbled, “Ry, remember when we were at the community centre, and I said that we make for a good hypothesis?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“Well, I’d like to add something to that. Even though I think that we make a great hypothesis, I need you to know that to me, you, Ryan Bergara, have always been an undeniable fact.”

And that was all that Ryan needed to hear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter for the pile! My apologies for the late update-- Christmas preparations are starting to overflow from my life onto my writing. The next chapter is Christmas Eve, and is sure to be cheesy as can be! Stay tuned. (I have big plans for the conclusion!)


	6. Christmas Eve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Shane takes "ice skating" as a light suggestion, and Ryan is enchanted.

“You’re officially quarantined.”

“Ryan, I sneezed twice. I’m fine. There’s no reason why we can’t have a wonderful Christmas Eve of cliches.” 

In all honesty, Shane could use a day off. His back ached from Ryan’s couch, and he had awakened that morning with a persistent pain at his temple telling him that whatever Christmas nightmare Ryan had planned, that it would be just a little bit worse. 

Ryan, thankfully, was insistent. “Nope. You have an obligation tonight, remember?”

Shane sighed. “Christmas Eve ice skating.”

“Precisely. I’m not letting you sniffle your way out of that one. Besides, it might be nice to just stay home, watch some movies, and enjoy the snow from indoors. What do you think?”

“I can’t argue with any plan that keeps me away from a mall. But if we’re staying home, I am definitely putting my pj’s back o—on—achoo!”

“Yup. We’re staying in.”

The two went about preparing for the film in amicable silence. It had been nearly a week since Shane had invaded Ryan’s humble living space, and yet he often felt as though he had always been there. They maintained a steady routine from day to day: Ryan always got the first shower and would insist upon making breakfast right after because Shane’s eggs Benedict was quote, “insufferable and wrong.” Shane would prepare the coffee, and both would fall into step despite the nagging notion that the holiday season would soon be drawing to a close, and the pipe in Shane’s apartment would soon be fixed, and at last reality would drag them from their mutual comfort. Both unsure of where their relationship would go without an excuse to band together, both were seeking to exploit their Christmas for all its’ worth. 

Shane took a shower and promptly changed back into his pyjamas. Hey, if they were going to stay home this morning, then Shane was going to be comfortable. His revelation to Ryan the previous night hung in the air like a promise; this would not be their last Christmas together. He was sure of it. The real challenge would be to ease Ryan’s nerves in the meantime— something Shane felt confident he could achieve.

When he found Ryan at the kitchen table, queuing up the film on iTunes, he too was wearing his flannel pjs. “Oh, look at that. You’ve already got a movie downloaded and queued up. It’s almost as though you were banking on me saying yes to staying in today.”

Ryan smiled up at him, running a hand through his hair. “Well…you are pretty agreeable. Especially when you’re sick.”

“So what you’re saying is that I’m easily manipulated?”

“Yeah, pretty much. Come on, let’s go. I’ve already made the hot cocoa.” Ryan did a double take as he held his laptop, his hand quivering nervously beneath it. Hesitantly, he turned towards the bedroom, gesturing for Shane to follow. Well, Shane thought, this was new… 

“Pfft. Manipulation. This is downright witchcraft. I’m putty in your hands, aren’t I?”

“Shut up, Shane.”

Shane suddenly found himself in a Schrödinger’s cat situation. He and Ryan had clearly shared a bed before on numerous occasions for Unsolved. This was nothing new. On the other hand, the earth shattering revelation of mutual feelings had corrupted an otherwise predictable pattern. In this new world of colours and optimism, there was no instruction manual for behaviour. They were going to have to improvise.

Even with his sore throat and aching limbs, it had it not escaped Shane that Ryan’s hands were fidgety, and his eyes were quick and searching in a way that indicated intense thought and paranoia. Shane had observed these traits many times before on location, and occasionally in the office, when work had imparted upon Ryan’s brow a persistent nervousness. 

The only difference was that now, Shane could actually do something about it. 

They simultaneously approached opposite sides and, peeling back the covers, climbed into the bed. The progressively dropping temperature outside combined with Ryan’s insistence upon the AC even in winter made the appeal of thick sheets and flannel pyjamas even more welcoming. Shane sighed with relief as his aching back met the mattress.

“Better than the couch?”

“Yeah. It was also a sigh of relief, though.”

Ryan’s eyes widened. “Oh? Why is that?”

“I’m just relieved that you don’t have a Michael Jordan bedspread.”

“Shut up, Shane.” Ryan laughed as he leaned forward to angle the laptop screen. “That’s only for special occasions.”

“Right.”

Ryan struggled to balance the laptop on his chest at such an angle that they both could see the screen. “Is this ok?”

“Not at all. Get over here, little guy."

Ryan eagerly scooted closer to Shane until they were flush against one another. Shane snaked his arm around Ryan’s waste as Ryan’s head found a home on his shoulder, burrowing into the warmth there. Shane considered the previous awkwardness of their bed sharing, when he would have to keep to one side, or pretend to sleep while Ryan panicked beside him, both alone and unable to bridge the gap between them. This felt different, to say the least. This felt incredible.

Shane’s eyes began to drift closed before the Grinch had stolen even a simple wreath from the unsuspecting Whos. Finally able to relax, his aching joints sunk down into the mattress, and Ryan, taking notice of his wavering consciousness, had scooted higher on the mattress in order to cradle Shane instead. He stroked Shane’s hair where his scalp pounded from his headache, and Shane was soon sleeping deeper than he had in years. And, as always, Ryan was quick to join him.

 

When Shane awoke, Ryan’s alarm clock indicated in its annoying accuracy that it was already 3:15pm. This would have been a welcome revelation, were it not for the fact that Ryan had his heart set on ice skating before the rink closed at 4pm on Christmas Eve. They were going to have to hurry.

Looking up at Ryan, Shane leaned over and nudged his cheek with his nose. “Ry, you up yet?”

Ryan blinked down at him before running a tired hand over his face. “Mmm I am now. Are you feeling any better, big guy?”  
“I am. I feel a lot better, actually. But we have bigger problems.”

“Oh?”

“It’s 3:15.”

“PM?”

“Yes.”

“Oh, sweet.”

“Ry?”

“What?”

“Wow. I can’t believe I’m going to do this. We’re going to be late for ice skating.”

Ryan flew out of the bed, nearly tripping over the bedsheet still twisted around his ankle. “Shit! Let’s get going!”

Shane jumped up to join him, each reaching for some clean clothes when Ryan discovered their most recent tragedy.

“Uh. I don’t think we’re going anywhere.” 

He pointed towards the high window. Shane followed his hand to gaze up at darkness. No wonder they had slept so soundly— snow had completely covered the window.

“Shit.”

……………………

“I’ve read all of the weather reports online, Shane. It looks like there’s no getting out today. Maybe not even tomorrow. We might be stuck here on Christmas, too.”

Shane took a sip of his tea, leaning against the sink as he spoke. “Well, I’m ok with that if you are.”

“I am. A day here sounds great, it’s just—skating was going to be our thing.”

“Well, we’ve done a lot of things this week that can now be our thing.”

“Yeah. It’s just— I’ve never had anyone to go ice skating with. And, I guess I just thought…I thought it would be romantic? I know. It’s stupid. I was just really looking forward to this.”

Shane placed his mug on the counter, reaching for Ryan’s hand. “Well, we can always go after Christmas if you want. I’m sure the rink won’t be as busy then.”

“Yeah. It just won’t be the same.” He sighed.

Shane watched Ryan for a moment, wondering what he might do. Ryan had been nagging Shane all week about their skating excursion, and to have his plan foiled now just felt like…a waste, somehow. Luckily for Ryan, Shane Madej wasn’t about to accept defeat, and certainly not on Christmas Eve.

“I have an idea.”

………………

“Shane! Can I come out now?”

“Not yet!”

“You said that ten minutes ago!”

“And I meant it!”

“What are you doing out there?”

“Oh my god, Bergara, would you be quiet! First rule of Christmas, don’t ask questions! Second rule of Christmas, obey your boyfriend!”

“Oh, so we’re boyfriends now?!”

“Yeah, so shut up! I’m trying to do something nice!”

Ryan had been waiting in the bedroom for what seemed like hours, but was likely closer to twenty minutes. Shane had hurried him off with the promise of a surprise, which Ryan took for a little holiday torture. Seriously, he thought, Shane should know by now that he was incapable of waiting in suspense! Ryan sighed and leaned against the doorframe. He felt like a child again, eagerly waiting for Santa Clause and the promise of surprise and delight on Christmas Day. If Shane thought Ryan was the kind to wait patiently without any snooping, he had another thing coming.

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door. Ryan stepped back to open it.

“My good sir.” Shane stood tall and stiff in the doorway, not unlike a butler. He wore a black blazer over his flannel pyjamas, and extended his arm to Ryan with all the wooden stiffness of a toy soldier. “I have come to collect you for our date.”

“Have you now?” Ryan beamed. Shane never could pass up a good bit.

“Yes, yes. Right this way, right this way…”

Taking Shane’s arm, Ryan was led down the hallway towards the kitchen, where Shane had draped what remained of their Christmas light supply over the cabinets, creating a warm glow in the room. He looked down and noticed his white throw was strewn across the tile floor. “Shane, I just washed that blanket the other day. Why is it on the floor?”

“Blanket? Why I don’t know what you mean! But my, this snow is really carpeting the earth, wouldn’t you say?”

“Ok, very funny.”

Shane stopped abruptly when they had reached the edge of the blanket. “Now, you’re going to want to tread carefully past this point.”

Ryan stepped confidently forward. “What are you talking about? It’s just the— woah!”

Ryan’s leg slipped beneath him, nearly toppling him over. Shane kept him upright before joining him on the hardwood floor of the kitchen. They slipped and slid all over themselves, laughing as they struggled to remain upright. Their fuzzy socks were no match for the incredibly smooth flooring.

“What the hell did you do to my floors?”

“Floors? Why this is an ice rink!”

“No seriously, Shane. What did you do?”

“Yeah so I may have washed your floor with Pledge.”

“Pledge? That’s for windows!”

“Yeah, but…it makes the floor extra slippery. Almost like a—”

“A skating rink.”

“Precisely.” 

Shane extended his hand dramatically before him, taking Ryan’s hand and gesturing for him to spin. As he spun away from Shane, Shane flicked off the light switch, and reached for his iPhone conveniently placed on the counter. Christmas music began to play from Ryan’s speakers, and, switching on the flashlight function, Shane flipped his phone face-down and gave the room the illusion of candlelight. 

Ryan laughed with delight. “I cannot believe you did this. You’re a madman!”

“Mad about you, baby!”

“Oh. My. God. Who are you and what have you done to Shane? That was cheesier than anything I’ve said this Christmas!”

“Yeah, I know. I hate it. I hate myself. All this sweetness has given me a weird taste in my mouth.”

“Really? I’ll be the judge of that.”

Stepping— or skating, closer, Ryan reached for Shane. Wrapping his arms around his waist to steady himself, Ryan leaned up and kissed Shane, slowly and passionately. He felt so overwhelmed surrounded by the illusion Shane had created for the two of them. Their elaborate fiction was intoxicating, and Ryan felt so, so grateful.

Ryan drew back and looked up at Shane, who was looking pretty damned pleased with himself. He could feel the tears gather in his eyes.

“Ry, are you ok?”

“Yeah. I’m great. I’m amazing. It’s just that— no one has ever done so much for me before. This is incredible, Shane.”

“Well, get used to it, baby. If you were able to turn me into this much of a sap in only a week, imagine how insufferable I’ll be in a month? In a year? If I ever watch the Hallmark Channel of my own volition, promise me you’ll put me out of my misery.”

“Deal.”

“Ryan?”

“Hmm?”

“Look up.”

A single strand of red ribbon suspended a piece of mistletoe above them. Ryan laughed. Shane really had thought of everything.

…………..

For a time the two were content to ‘skate’ through Ryan’s kitchen like old pros. They took turns spinning, racing, and twirling, each narrating the grace and athletic prowess demonstrated by the other. My, what form! What precision! 

When the appeal of whirling and twirling on Ryan’s pristinely clean floors had become exhausting, the two sat slumped in front of the oven, demolishing the gingerbread house before them. Ryan absentmindedly enjoyed the sugar-coated roof, while Shane proceeded to eat gingerbread angel-mothman as slowly as possible, perhaps as an act of torture. 

With his list of traditions completed, snow gently falling outside, and an entire gingerbread mansion to devour, Ryan felt happy. Hell, he felt overjoyed. Their first Christmas together was hours away, and Ryan already felt enveloped with a sort of joy he had never before felt at Christmastime. He felt so completely full that he wondered if he were truly real.

Shane, as he plucked the limbs from his gingerbread creation, sighed with relief. Relief that he and Ryan were safe, together, and that Ryan would no longer wish for a Hallmark Christmas— Shane had granted his wish, and in doing so, finally felt content with the holiday about to be. He was a part of something. A part of many traditions—no matter how stupid— and a part of Ryan’s life in a way that was shiny and new. Shane was no longer within and without. He was an undeniable part of something. Whatever that something would come to be, he looked forward to it.

Ryan bounced his foot lightly and contentedly against Shane’s leg. Suddenly, hit with a chilling realization, he stopped.

“Hey Shane?”

“Yeah, Ry?”

“If we can’t walk in the kitchen, how are we going to cook the turkey?”

“Shit.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Christmas Eve, folks! It looks like Ryan got everything he could have wanted for Christmas, which, given the frankly unbearable fluffiness of this fic, was something that you probably expected! The conclusion will likely come after Christmas, but until then, enjoy your usual programming of cuteness :)


	7. Christmas Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “This is amazing.”
> 
> “Think so?”
> 
> “Yes,” Ryan turned to face Shane. “You are.”
> 
> AKA the boys finally exchange Christmas presents, bringing their first Ghoul Boys Christmas to a close.

“Ryan?”

“Hmmm?” Ryan’s hair was sticking straight up on end; his peculiar position in bed had given him the illusion of a mohawk peeking out from under the covers.

“Is there any particular reason that your alarm is going off at 6am?”

“We have to put the turkey in so it’ll be ready for dinner.”

“Ah.” They both remained stock still, ignoring the alarm as they continued to lounge under the blankets. “Planning on getting up to do that any time soon?”

“I will… eventually.” Ryan rolled on his side to face Shane. “Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas, Ry.” 

The night before had left Shane and Ryan exhausted, though neither would admit it. Their olympian-level sock skating followed by the demolition and prompt consumption of their gingerbread mansion had lulled them into a deep slumber. Ryan had had to wake Shane to summon him to bed, lest they pass the entire night dozing on the cold tile. As consequence, Christmas morning had found them both lazy and reluctant to rise.

Ryan reached over to press snooze on his alarm. “You ready for your Christmas present, big guy?”

“Hell yes.”

Ryan sat up cross legged on the bed as he reached beneath it to retrieve a small box wrapped in shiny red paper.

“Clearly you’re the expert in this department, but I was under the impression that Christmas presents go under the tree.”

“Yeah. Well… I wanted to be able to give it to you straightway.”

Ryan’s expectant smile tugged at Shane’s heart. “And you knew I’d be sleeping here on Christmas Eve night? That’s a bit scandalous, Ry.”

Ryan blushed. “Just a hunch. Now shut up and open your gift.”

Shane smiled before tearing eagerly at the wrapping, revealing two DVD boxes, each with their gingerbread photo tucked into the outer sleeve. The first box contained a disk labelled “ASMR.” 

“Really, Ry? ASMR?”

“Not just any ASMR— German ASMR.”

Shane laughed. “No way! That’s so weird! I love it!”

“Now open the other one!” Ryan scooted closer with anticipation.

“Ok, ok!” Shane opened the other box to reveal a disk labelled “Lass die Musik an.”

“Uh, Leave the music on?”

“Yeah! Or at least I think so— I used google translate. Anyway, I called the community centre we went to, and they sent me a list of the songs they played at the concert. Now you have your own copy of their playlist!”

Shane was quiet for a moment, turning the box over in his hands. 

“Is it too weird? I just thought because you enjoyed it so much that it might be nice to—”

“I know. I love it. Sometimes you just surprise me, that’s all.” Shane reached out to Ryan, threading his fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck. “You always know what to do.”

Ryan’s looked quickly down, his lips parting in a whisper. “Not always.”

“Yeah, you do.” Shane leaned over, placing a gentle kiss on Ryan’s cheek. “That’s what I love about you.”

Shane’s words sent a shiver down Ryan’s spine. Shane had used the word love. They were sitting in Ryan’s bedroom on Christmas Day, and Shane had used the word “love.” The world had clearly shifted somehow yet Ryan couldn’t remember where or when it had happened. There was only the present, stretched out before them like an unspoken promise or an undeniable fact. 

Ryan leaned forward to kiss Shane, who suddenly bolted up from the bed in response.

“Time for that later, little guy. Now it’s your turn for a gift.”

“Really, Shane?”

“I know. BUT this is a big moment. You have your socks on?”

“Uh, yeah?”

“Good. ‘Cause they’re about to be knocked right off, baby!”

Ryan sighed. “Oh my god. I can’t even comprehend how nerdy that was.”

“Me neither. Now come on!” Turning on his heel, Shane promptly marched out of the bedroom, leaving Ryan to scurry along behind.

As they approached the Christmas tree, Ryan noticed a clear absence of gifts beneath it, as it had been the day before. “Uh, Shane? Where should I be…”

Ryan stopped as his eyes landed on the back wall, which, once empty, was now crowded with polaroids strung on two red ribbons from one side to the other. “Oh, my…”

Stepping closer, Ryan examined the photographs one by one. The first one was a snapshot of a Charlie Brown cartoon, showcasing an incredibly droopy, sad little Christmas tree. The next was of Shane and Ryan, standing before their own tree in the Christmas tree lot. 

“Yeah, I didn’t have a picture of your first tree, but I thought that this approximation was close enough.”

“Shut up Shane.”

Both stood in silence as Ryan examined the other photographs. He saw the two of them at the community centre, all smiles as they stood before the choir. He saw their attempt at a gingerbread mansion, one image of them with their creation was juxtaposed with a close up of C.C. facing his macabre murking at the hands of gingerbread-angel Mothman. He saw their snowman and the tree-lighting ceremony, along with a close up of Ryan admiring the lights. And finally he saw the selfie they had taken on the floor of his impossibly slippery kitchen the night before. Scattered among their memories were generic pictures of hot chocolate, snowflakes, and warm socks, creating an aesthetic worthy of a movie that Shane would most definitely refuse to watch.

“This is amazing.”

“Think so?”

“Yes,” Ryan turned to face Shane. “You are.”

Ryan scurried over to hug Shane and promptly buried his face in his chest. Shane, despite his grinch-y protestations, had made for Ryan a picture-perfect Christmas, complete with photo documentation. Ryan thought that Shane had clearly outdone himself and Hallmark in terms of pure cheesiness alone…

“You know, Shane, you’ve made my Christmas standards incredibly high with this gift. I just don’t know how you’re ever going to top this one.”

Shane sighed dramatically, bringing his hand to rest in Ryan’s hair. “You know what? Keep your high standards. You deserve the best, Bergara. Even if all this tinsel kills me.”

Ryan shook his head in disbelief. “Just shut up and kiss me.”

“Well we are under the mistletoe.”

“No way…” Ryan hadn’t hung any mistletoe— he didn’t even own any. He looked up and laughed with surprise when he saw bunches of mistletoe all around the room, just about every five feet in all directions.

“Oh my god! You didn’t!”

“Well, I wanted to be thorough.”

“You’re insane.”

“Yup. It should be enough to keep us busy…at least for the morning, anyway.”

Ryan smiled. "At least."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here we are! The end of the Ghoul Boys Christmas. Sorry for the late update--life happened. More specifically, Christmas happened. Hope you all enjoyed this conclusion, and....
> 
> Happy New Year!

**Author's Note:**

> WOAH I am so ready for the holidays! The Ghoul Boy Christmas is now officially underway. This fic will continue to encapsulate all of the holiday cliches, but this time, with some classic Ghoul Boy banter. If you like this story, or have any holiday traditions that you'd like to see reflected, drop a comment below. I can't guarantee I'll be able to incorporate every idea, but I'd welcome some inspiration for future chapters. :)


End file.
